


Keeping Warm on Christmas Eve

by Contesa_lui_Alucard



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Cock Warming, Exhibitionism, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Contesa_lui_Alucard/pseuds/Contesa_lui_Alucard
Summary: You're feeling a little cold, and Clyde is feeling a little frisky.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	Keeping Warm on Christmas Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This was written to fulfill a request I received, and a very good request it was! I hope you enjoy!

Even with the fireplace roaring in Jimmy’s living room, there was still a chill in the air. The kind of chill that seeps right down into your bones, the kind that told you snow was on its way. The Logan siblings had gathered around the fire, chasing that warmth, sipping a lovely concoction Clyde had whipped up in the hopes it would assuage the frosty air, but it was no use. Even with your mug of mulled wine cupped between your hands, you shivered, and your Clyde immediately took notice.

“Ya still cold, Sweetness?” Clyde asks, tilting his head towards you in concern.

You giggle and wave off his concern, “I just can’t seem to shake this chill, but it’s fine, really.”

Clyde is not so easily dissuaded though, leaning in closer to your ear as he sets his mug down and rests his large hand on your thigh. His voice comes out in a husky whisper, “Do ya need yer Big Bear’s help?”

Your head snaps to meet his eyes, and you know that look, boy do you know that look. That look means trouble. So you smile innocently, of course, and raise your eyebrows, leaning in to whisper back, “What did you have in mind, Big Bear? A blanket?”

Clyde stares at you, hard and long, leveling you with that look, before his eyes flick to the other side of the couch. There’s a flannel blanket draped across the back of it, and Clyde reaches for it, jostling you as he does. He hands it to you, but before you can drape it across your legs Clyde is lifting you up and into his lap. You try to bite back the squeal you instinctually make at the sudden change in seating, but your attempt is ineffectual, Mellie catches your eye. She glances over the scene, smirks, and turns back to her conversation with Silvie. No one else seems to take notice, Mellie and Silvie standing across the room by the kitchen, Jimmy and the Bang Brothers on the couch across from you. Sadie had been sent to bed, going with very little fight thanks to Santa’s imminent arrival. Or rather, Clyde and Jimmy’s scheming to make it look as if reindeer had traipsed through the living room and Santa had messily eaten the cookies and milk she’d put out for him. Clyde was very happy she chose cranberry oatmeal this year.

Clyde wraps his arms tightly around your middle as you shift in his lap, leaning close to your ear again, “Spread out that blanket an’ I’ll show ya what I got ta keep ya warm, Sweetness.”

Desire begins to pool in your stomach, and with eager hands you spread out the blanket until it covers you both from the waist down. Clyde’s metal arm stays bracketed around your waist, while his right hand dives underneath, hiking up your dress and pulling aside the gusset of your panties. One thick finger rubs against your seam, and you gasp as you turn to bury your face in Clyde’s hair, releasing a shuddering breath.

“Mmm don’t you feel nice n’ warm down here, hmm? Just how I like,” Clyde drawls, his finger changing positions so he can stroke lightly at your clit. Your hands grip tightly to the blanket’s hem, keeping it close, keeping all of Clyde’s movements hidden. To anyone else, it only appears that you are whispering to eachother, which isn’t entirely uncharacteristic. Clyde is a quiet man, a private man, he loves to talk to you but he doesn’t need the world knowing his business, it isn’t uncommon for him to pull you into his lap and whisper in your ear. No one would guess what’s happening beneath the cover of the blanket.

Clyde removes his hand and you let out a soft whine, but then you feel him shift to loosen his belt, unzippering his fly, and suddenly you are terribly nervous, “Clyde?” You question softly.

“I told ya I’d help ya, didn’t I?” He murmurs as he releases his cock from the confines of his jeans, you feel it slide against your ass cheek, hot and thick and heavy, “This’ll get ya nice n’ warm, won’t it?”

If by warm he means the heat of embarrassment caused by having Clyde’s cock inside of you while sitting across from his siblings and their significant others, then yes, you will most definitely be kept nice and toasty! “But Clyde,” you stutter nervously, “everyone’s right there, what if they–?”

“Well if yer nice n’ quiet they won’t know, now will they?”

You pull away to see Clyde’s face, and never in your time together have you ever seen him look this devious. “What’s gotten into you, Clyde?” you ask incredulously.  
“It’s the season of givin’, and I guess I’m just in the spirit,” he shrugs with a smirk.

Effortlessly he lifts you, just enough to notch the head of his cock in your entrance, and with one swift shift of his hips he slides halfway inside of you. He stops, knowing how badly he’s stretching you, knowing by the way you’re clenching around him that you’re just about ready to scream. Even as slick as you are, he’s a lot to take, and he’d only barely touched you before this.

You strain to keep quiet, one hand gripping the blanket, the other wrapped around his bicep, squeezing so hard you’re likely to leave a bruise, burying your face in his hair. He gives you a moment, just a moment, to adjust around him before he’s pushing the rest of the way home. You whimper softly, a weak little cry that couldn’t be contained, and Clyde shushes you gently, “Be good, Sweetness, nice n’ quiet, I promise you’ll feel warm in no time.”

Your wet, warm walls constrict around Clyde’s thick cock, desperately beckoning him to rock within them, but Clyde doesn’t move an inch. You begin to shift in his lap, squirming around for relief, but the arm around your waist cinches tighter, and he lifts his other hand to grasp your jaw and pull you away so he can meet your eyes, “Stop squirmin’, if yer good I’ll give ya a present t’night.”

“A p-present?” you manage to squeak, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of his thick cock twitching inside of you.

“Yeah,” he murmurs in your ear, “A nice, big load of yer Big Bear’s cum.”

Your entire body goes taught at his words, and Clyde grunts at the feeling, but before either of you can say anything further, Jimmy is calling Clyde’s name, “Hey Clyde! The Bang Brothers don’t believe me ‘bout that time when we was kids an’ I snuck into ol’ man Johnson’s workshop an’ stole his coveralls. Can you tell ‘em the story, they’ll believe you!”

Your stomach drops, eyes wide as you look at Jimmy, ready to shift off of Clyde’s cock and out of his lap. But Clyde clears his throat, tightens his arm around your waist, and proceeds to tell the story as if nothing at all is awry.

You let your gaze wander to Clyde as he talks, and sigh to yourself softly. This was going to be a very long, very less than silent night.


End file.
